Bloodlines
by Karkat Captor
Summary: And of course it's not something that you can just decide on at a career fair - you're trained for this from birth, and as my father told me, just as vampires have bloodlines, we have bloodlines as well, and they pass on to make the future a better place, just as Stan, and Kenny, and I have known our whole lives. Choose your own pairing!


**Bloodlines**

**Author's Note: **As I said, in this story, you get to pick the pairing you want. Sort of a experiment - when this chapter ends, go to the chapter that has the pairing you want in it, and that's their 'path', so to speak, like a dating sim. They all branch off from this main chapter, and so you can go through all of them, but...yeah. Pick the one ya like and see how it goes! Enjoy!

Vampires do exist.

I know, most of you are thinking me insane for even bringing up this idea, but they truly do. They're much like regular humans, and although many humans stake beliefs in them, none of them presented so far are true.

For one, they don't sparkle, and anyone who thinks so is braindead.

For two, garlic isn't a weakness, and for three, neither are crosses, the third was thought up by batshit insane Christians who think that a stake with three points on each side means that you just killed a vampire with holy power.

No, you just killed a vampire with a stake, you dipshit.

The thing with the stakes? Entirely true, and I've experienced it firsthand, through various sightings, and even doing it myself. It works, guaranteed.

However, for every life befits a life, and vampires are the grand master of this principle.

"_...Please...do not kill me..." The boy choked out, his hands on the ground. "Death...will not be pleased, please, do not kill me..." He wiped the blood from his mouth, staring at me with blank eyes. I looked around, seeing my comrade on the ground with his neck slit right open, and the vampire slowly sucking up his blood as if to heal himself. _

"_I cannot allow you to live..." I mumbled out, raising the stake. The vampire nodded. _

"_...Honorable...kill me if you may."_

"_No fights?"_

"_We may be creatures of the night, but we have principles, sir." The boy smiled, his fangs glistening in the moonlight. "Go ahead, stab me where you see fit. I suggest the heart, but anywhere shall be fine. But, before I die, can you at least tell me your name?" _

"_...As you wish...my name is Kyle Broflovski...rest in peace, night terror." I stabbed the boy in the heart, and for a split-second he smiled, as he fell to the ground, curled into a ball. _

The reports I filed that night were not pleasant ones.

Cadet Officer Pip Pirrup: Dead.

Vampire Count, name unknown: Presumed dead, status unknown.

I turned them in to the chief - Marsh, who happened to be a friend of mine - and proceeded to walk back to my desk, waving hello to the other officer-on-duty - Kenneth McCormick - who happened to also be a friend of mine. He waved his hand lazily, tossing the paperwork to Stan, who shook his head.

"You know, one of these days, that attitude's gonna get you killed." Stan mumbled. Instantly, Kenny replied with a cry of 'HYPOCRITE,' and both laughed as the atmosphere returned to normal. To be fair, no one had truly really known Pip, and no one seemed to really care - he was a cadet, so what? There's been millions of cadets over the years, all only referred to by whatever nickname what apt to them at the time, going even so far as to the funeral itself. Diabetes kid. Fat kid. Star Wars Nerd. Star TREK Nerd (as he got abrasive every time we slipped up, which was brought up in jokes even to this day), and now, Frenchie. An inexperienced vampire hunter sent with a experienced one on a mission that it was guaranteed that only one person would come out alive of, and that person, in this case, was me, Officer Kyle Broflovski.

Did I like that fact?

Well, no. Sometimes I hoped that there would just be peace, but that's unlikely to ever happen, as more and more change and transform, transfixed by what they think of as power, or adventure, or even in the case of some younger victims, romance. It was a sick and twisted world that vampires existed in, and that was unlikely to ever change, so long as mortals continue to get changed, and vampires continue to be unable to control their instinct. And so, societies such as 'Harker International', the one I work for, named after Mina Harker, continue to exist. There wouldn't be a mortal world without them.

And of course it's not something that you can just decide on at a career fair - you're trained for this from birth, and as my father told me, just as vampires have bloodlines, we have bloodlines as well, and they pass on to make the future a better place, just as Stan, and Kenny, and I have known our whole lives. If we gain spouses, they must be amongst Harker International as well, or we must leave the whole thing behind, gain a new identity, and presumably be murdered in a 'accident' not-too-far-off after. If we have children, they must become Cadets, and we cannot do anything for their future, we can only hope.

That's why Kenny, Stan, and I have agreed on some-sort of 'singles pact', but only after Stan's experience with 'Wendy Testaburger, granddaughter of Harker International's president' didn't work out. To be honest, I'm somewhat glad it didn't - she had somewhat of a...how to put it...attitude? She was one of those people who makes you say 'Oh, gee, I'm glad women's rights exist, now stop acting like they don't and protesting.' It nearly turned the poor guy into a doormat. Though, he did have a point that dating the president's granddaughter got him into a cushy place, and remaining friends with her kept that place intact.

And so we stayed in the office most nights, taking a load off and having drinks, and learning a bit about the cadet of the week before they got killed off. Most of them were stereotypes, as I mentioned, but it was amusing to learn about them, anyway. There was no one assigned yet, though, so we eventually just gave up the silence, turned on the TV, and started up a drinking game.

"Oi, they played the Benny Hill music." Kenny called. "Take three shots!"

"Aw, dude..." Stan mumbled, drinking thrice, as Kenny and I did the same.

"Ooh, girl with fake boobs, down the whole bottle." Kenny chuckled, downing his whole bottle of Jack Daniel's. I soon followed after, and with a disgruntled moan, Stan did the same. "Someone's a lightweight." Kenny grinned, poking Stan in the head. "Come on, Stanny. You've gotta be able to down more than that. Or maybe you're envisioning me as a hot woman already." He hopped up, his cheeks bright red, striking what I assumed he believed was a 'sexy pose'. "Give it to me...good." He moaned, and Stan shook his head, slamming his face into his desk and letting out a snore. "...Well, looks like he's sleeping here tonight, poor fella." Kenny said, walking over to me and putting his hand on my head. "Well, I guess we'd better go, unless we want to see our little ace quarterback have another wet dream involving him and Buffy- I mean, Wendy. C'mon." With that, the blonde began to walk out the door, and I trailed after, somewhat stumbling. As we reached outside, into the cold, crisp night air, he glanced back at me.

"Oh, it was too much for you, too?"

I sighed.

"I guess I'm the winner, then." He laughed. "Want me to help you to your house?"

I nodded weakly, and took his hand as he led the way.

"You know, I've always wondered something." Kenny began speaking as I drearily stared at my surroundings, following wherever he dragged me. "What happens to vampires when they die? Well, not die - they're sort of already dead, but when we stake 'em. What happens then? Do their souls go to heaven? Do they just stop existing? Or do they do something different altogether? Maybe they reincarnate, or maybe they can never truly die." His grip tightened on my hand. "Me? I think they, when they know who their killer is, take revenge upon them in some way. They...ruin them, you know. They make you trust them, and then they destroy you from the inside. I...I think that's the case." I looked up, my eyes somewhat foggy, and I frowned, muttering slowly.

"Why're you talking about these things..."

"Well, no reason, really, it's just that...every time a cadet dies, it makes me wonder if the next time the door opens, it'll be them again. I know, it's a strange fear, but it just...is something that makes me terrified to hear about, much less think about." Kenny shook his head. "And when my sister eventually gets assigned to this lot..." He trailed off, staring at the sky, but quickly regained himself. "We're almost at your house. Need me to take you to your room, or...?"

"Nah...it's alright, I can get there..." I slurred, walking inside the home as Kenny nodded, walking back to his apartment - the small rickety thing that Stan and I had rented out for him and his sister so they wouldn't have to live with their parents. Walking up the steps, I heard a familiar voice start up.

"You're drunk to hell and back, aren'cha." Ike stood at the top of the stairs, crossing his arms. "Really, if this is what you so-called 'officers' do, I can't wait 'til I can become a cadet."

"...No..." I grumbled, and Ike led me to bed - he was younger, but I'll be damned if he wasn't the more mature one, and laid me down.

"Sleep." He intoned, stepping out of the room and closing the door. I practically smothered myself with the pillow, making grumbles the whole time as if it was attacking me.

Finally, the morning came. I slunk out of bed, put on my clothes, and as Ike had left a note that he was seeing what his friend Puck was up to, I took the day off opportunity to simply stay around the house. Sitting down in the living room chair, I turned on the TV and began to watch, raising my eyebrow as a newswoman began a monologue that was clearly intended for - well, 'specific people'.

"There has been a recent string of murders all throughout the South Park area. The culprit is unknown, but we have many minor and major suspects about, all which may be varying degrees of guilty. One of the associated murders is of the British-born Pip Pirrup, who is assumed to have died on his way home from work. His wife and child have not been reached for comment, but as police have discovered, his throat has been slit open completely, and there is not a trace of blood anywhere within his system. Authorities as well have not been able to be reached for comment, and we can only warn you to take precautions at night - as far we are concerned, the blood-sucker seems to be after any person that they can manage."

And then, the phone rang.

Great, just great.


End file.
